What's Your Ikigai?

My life changed irrevocably on December 26th 2018 when my mother passed away.

As a psychologist I knew what would follow would be an expected journey of loss, grief, and intense bereavement. But that didn’t mean I knew when the tide would turn and when I would begin to feel better. I didn’t wait.

I went back to work on the fifth day after her passing.

But something kept gnawing at me inside and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I came to that point in my own life that I have seen many times from across the table with my clients.

I started questioning the purpose of life and how I was living it. There was a decision I had been pushing away for 5-6 years now. I finally brought it to the fore and acted on it.

Which means I resigned from my job, much against well-meaning advice – that losing a parent and giving up a job are placed in the top list of stressors. And yet, there I was, diving into the unknown.

What had rocked the boat for me? I LOVED my job, I think I am good at it (from what people have told me). Everything was looking up for me on the job: in terms of recognition, the reach I had, and the kind of work I was doing. So I knew it wasn’t a knee jerk reaction because the decision had been simmering within for a while.

But I guess a jolt like the one I’d received is what made me take a good look at myself. With Mom’s passing, and having been by her side through these years, I questioned everything; and I felt rudderless, directionless, as if life had lost its essence, even if I knew it was temporary.

Am I living authentically? Am I living a life with meaning and purpose? Am I chasing the elusive concept called happiness? What does happiness even mean?

It’s in our nature to search for meaning and purpose especially in the middle of life’s chaos, and I too set about doing that. On that journey of self-discovery, I chanced upon Ikigai, which means our “reason for being.”

Ikigai, I found, balances the spiritual with the practical aspects.

There are four components: what you love, what you are good at, what the world needs, and what the world is willing to pay you for. And at the intersection, where all four meet, is your ikigai, your raison de’tre, your reason to jump out of bed every day. It’s about finding meaning, purpose, joy, fulfillment, satisfaction, and balance in the daily routine of life.

I was experiencing an existential vacuum – the perfect state to go in search of ikigai, I guess. I wasn’t eating and sleeping well, running (my main stress buster) had left me to my own devices, and I was just miserable within. It took monumental effort to be there for others, helping them wade through life as well.

What was wrong?

I’d lost the most precious thing in my life. What more could I lose? I don’t know, but maybe that’s where that fearlessness had come in from, where the need to step out of the comfort zone, to not play safe anymore reared itself.

Therein started the dissection of my life.

My passions and first loves were my family and my work as a psychologist. I also wanted to earn well to meet my needs, be financially independent, travel and have a lifestyle that I enjoyed (which only translates to travel, travel, and more travel 😉)

My frustration, it seemed, was arising from conflicting wants. Of wanting to live a life of meaning and service to others in need, including family, being there for them whenever they needed me, but also catering to the whims of a well-paying, secure job, albeit one where my absence from work to be there for family was starting to be seen as an inconvenience.

Was I focusing on money as the main outcome and was unhappy as a result? What about the things I truly cared about which I have always prioritized but were now being questioned because it came in the way of my “job?” Like taking care of my parents (and my aging dog), spending time with them, being their daughter in every possible way. And of also being there for people as a psychologist in my own time and space.

I loved what I did, I was good at it, the world needed me, but I didn’t need a job to pay me if I chose to go out on my own. That last thing there, that was the missing piece earlier. I didn’t need a job to pay me if I chose to go out on my own.

I would be my own boss and could structure my life to fit in all that was important to me, including being there for my own self, on my own terms.

I had always maintained that you can’t box life into categories: Job, family, passions, self, others. They aren’t unrelated or aren’t distinct from each other if you have to experience synchronization. Nothing is siloed, and everything is linked.

That one decision helped things fall into place.

I found it possible to still be passionate about my work, and actually do better at it because I had found my centre of gravity and was happier as a result. I could choose what all I wanted to do, on my own time. I could live a life of meaning and purpose by being there for my Dad when he needs family around the most, come home early to the sight of the wagging tail of my dog at the end to a productive day at work, and not when the clock chimes 5:30. And be there for myself, the self that I had lost in chasing things that neither brought joy nor meaning.

That day, I knew I had a different story to tell. I could edit, change, modify the script of my life as I pleased keeping in mind that I could hold close what was important, discard the irrelevant, and make space for what I wanted to do with my time as well.

At the intersection of all this, I found my ikigai and along with it peace, happiness, meaning, purpose, a little less of something else, but a lot more of what mattered.

What helped attain it were keeping true to my passion and purpose and finding a medium to express it;  do and be, rather than think and overthink; seek support from friends and family who know you inside out; and accept that setbacks are normal, that the cards may not stack up perfectly, things may not go as planned, and that you are chasing your purpose for the right reasons. And if life throws you a curveball even after all that, c’est la vie.

What, after all, is life if there is no heartbreak, no adventure, and nothing which tests your true grit and spirit? Indeed, it is in these circumstances that your ikigai holds you aloft, keeps you afloat, and takes you to new horizons.

So, what’s your ikigai?

Instead of asking Who Am I, ask Why Am I?

I recently shopped for a few pictures to adorn my clinic wall. Pictures with words that hold meaning to what I truly believe in. And I didn’t realize that when I would unpack from my travels today, these set of four pictures would inspire me to write about this important question that has emerged through many conversations with individuals in my clinical practice. The one on the meaning and purpose of life.

Almost everything makes no sense to them, every day is just one more day gone by, waiting in anticipation for what, they don’t know. Such is the depth of despair they feel, that life, for whatever it’s worth (or not), holds nothing of value to them.

They feel they are in a daze, a blur, a fog, an inertia, that they have lost touch not just with people, their environment, but most importantly with themselves.

“I feel empty inside. I see no worth in me.”
“I don’t like myself, and you, Divya, ask me if I love myself?”
“I wish I could end this life, but I don’t have the courage. I wish I could live it meaningfully instead.”

But yet they do ask, “Why Am I Here?”
“How is it that people I know find value and meaning in their lives, and I can barely get out of bed, let alone know what I want from life?”

Before coming to see me, their paths would have crossed with mental health professionals or alternative medicine practitioners, who typically label them “depressed,” prescribe mood elevating drugs, or would suggest yoga and any physical exercise as mere treatment plans, without addressing the wounded soul, without listening to what they have to say, without hearing their silent screams and being there for them, in their moments of utter hopelessness, by being truly attentive to each word and expression, to try and make sense of it all.

And so, that feeling of being completely lost and disconnected perpetuates.

We are told what to do, just because that is what is expected of us, or because others do it and that has to be the solution because it works for them, rather than what WE want to do. Well-meaning advice pours in: “Meet people,” “Get a job,” “Get a hobby,” “Structure your day” “Do this,” “Do that,” “Distract yourself.” As a result, people spiral down further, because hey, we can’t even do basic stuff that is “expected?”

Do you see the problem in all of this “well-meaning” advice?

It’s the reason I move away from that stance for the most part because I do not see existential crisis as a mental illness to be treated. I see it instead as a call from within to (re)connect with ourselves.

“Be” first. “Love who you are.” “Get in touch with your own inner self rather than the outward.” “Dig deep into what makes you tick.” “Let’s explore what your raison d’etre is.” “Are you willing to dive into the unknown with me?” I prefer to offer these up.

And so, I again ask people to reflect on the question, “Why Am I?”

Not “Why am I here?” or “Why am I this way or that way?”

 Just, “Why Am I?”

And the answer lies in the fact that everyone has what the Japanese call “ikigai”- Their reason for being, what stirs us to wake up in every morning, our purpose, our meaning ascribed to life. Some have found theirs, while others are still searching for it. But this much is for sure…our ikigai lies within, latent maybe, but waiting to be unearthed on a journey of self-discovery of the body, mind, and soul.

You have to nudge people to consciously discover their life’s purpose, at their pace, in their time, by being by their side, sometimes tender, sometimes using tough love. You break barriers, help them get past obstacles and past ways of living, which often show up as ineffective coping mechanisms.

But most importantly, you tell people that they have one thing which no one can ever take away from them, and that is their free will. That they have a choice in the now, to live life the way they want to, based on what they value, to choose one’s attitude in whatever circumstances life brings them to, to choose one’s path and to be able to have the courage to stick to it, come what may, only if they B.E.L.I.E.V.E. In themselves, in life, and in knowing that they can always get back up even after a fall, and continue to move forward. Not necessarily on, but forward, only because there is always a choice we can exert.

After all, Nietzsche summed it up well, “He who has a why to live for can bear with almost any how.”

So, each of us, our own unique selves, however troubled we may be and however desperately we may want to give up on life, just because it has no “meaning,” must be aware of one thing. In asking, “what meaning does my life have?” we are doing ourselves a huge disservice. We are the ones asking this question and life owes us nothing; it is life that questions us, unfolds in front of us, and is asking us what we make of it. And only we can answer this question, by taking charge of ourselves, by being responsible, by finding our own ikigai. To begin with, we need to stop being obsessed about doing, and give a lot more attention to being.

How, you may ask? Look out for next week’s post. 😊